


Wrap Your Arms Around Me

by slash4femme



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Comfort Sex, M/M, chest hair kink, episode fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:24:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1382335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slash4femme/pseuds/slash4femme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the time he gets off duty McCoy can't make his hands stop shaking</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrap Your Arms Around Me

**Author's Note:**

> originally written in September 2009
> 
> takes place directly after [Day of the Dove](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nUeB0zAm9Uw&feature=PlayList&p=pvkHxos8lto). Written for st_tos_kink [prompt here](http://community.livejournal.com/st_tos_kink/485.html?thread=111077#t111077). 

By the time he gets off duty that night McCoy can't make his hands stop shaking. The whole thing with the Klingons and the alien entity that lived off of negative emotions had gotten to him more then he’d have been willing to admit. Most it had beenabout the alien and it’s mental manipulation. McCoy hated, hated not knowing if his actions, feeling even thoughts were his own. He hated being invaded like that, manipulated and used. Most of all though he hated the things he’d said to Spock under the aliens influence, hated it even more because they were so close to things he’d said and thought without the easy excuse of mental interferences. It makes him feel slightly nauseous, he clenches his hands tightly at his sides trying to make them stay still and stop shaking but it doesn’t really do much good.

Spock is already in their quarters when McCoy arrives. Spock had been working at his desk but when McCoy comes through the door he stands and turns towards the doctor. McCoy just stands in the doorway as the door closes soundlessly behind him and for a long moment just looks at Spock. Then he takes two quick steps forward and puts his arms around the taller man’s waist leaning into Spock, letting his face rest against Spock’s shoulder, his eyes slide shut. Spock stands, stiffly and lets McCoy lean against him, taking as much of the doctor’s weight as he needs to. McCoy rubs his face against Spock’s shoulder feeling the solidness of him, the heat coming off his body, the clean dry smell of him. McCoy’s hands are still shaking, pressed against Spock’s hip and back, and he takes a long ragged breath trying to make them stop, trying to get himself back under control. He hates other people inside his head, he really does. One of Spock’s hands comes up the gently touch the back of McCoy’s head, not press or stroke just there, a solid presence, reminding McCoy that he’s not alone.

“Leonard . . .”

McCoy sighs and pushes himself a little bit away from Spock, just far enough that he can see Spock’s eyes.“I am sorry.”

“I know.”Spock’s voice is as always without inflection but his hand drops to McCoy’s waist, resting lightly against his hip. “You were not yourself.”

McCoy closes his eyes again and takes a long breath. “Yeah.”

Spock’s hand moves from his waist to grip his chin firmly, turning his face up towards Spock and McCoy opens his eyes as Spock leans forward and kisses him. It’s soft at first just the press of Spock’s hot dry lips against his own and then McCoy opens his mouth and Spock’s tongue is there, exploring touching, light almost tentative, and McCoy’s eyes slide shut again, hands fisting in the lightweight cloth of Spock’s uniform. Spock draws back a little right when it’s starting to get hard for McCoy to breathe and McCoy blinks up at him.

“Take me to bed?”

Spock only nods touching two fingers lightly to McCoy’s jaw before turning and walking through the doorway to the bedroom.McCoy follows and stops just inside leaning against the doorframe as Spock efficiently strips himself of his boots, socks, and uniform shirt. He turns, just in pants, back to McCoy who goes to him, running one hand up Spock’s body, touching his flat stomach, up his chest, carting his fingers through the thick dark hair that covers both. McCoy likes touching Spock like this, likes the feel of Spock’s chest hair under his palm, likes it when Spock touches him the same way.

Spock accepts the caress as he always does, eyes locked on McCoy’s face. Spock tilts McCoy’s face up a little, and kisses him again, lets on hand settle on McCoy’s hips. They break the kiss and McCoy’s own hands go to his uniform shirt, stripping it off and sitting on the bed to kick of his boot as well, he strips off his socks, hands going to his pants, and Spock’s hand lands on McCoy’s shoulder startling him into look up. Spock is watching him, face unreadable as ever, dark eyes intense, and his fingers rub small patterns into McCoy’s shoulder and neck. McCoy tilts his head to the side watches, Spock and wishes not for the first time that Spock wouldn’t be so damn stubborn when it comes to expressing what he wants or needs from McCoy. McCoy’s too tired right now to fight about it though, so instead he leans into Spock’s touch, stroking down his arms, back to Spock’s chest, to cart his fingers through the dark hair that lies against Spock’s belly. Spock’s own hands drift down McCoy’s chest, flicking across a nipple in passing before stroking against the lighter colored hair on McCoy own stomach and McCoy can’t help but shiver slightly.

“Darlin'.” McCoy holds out his hand to Spock pulling him down onto the bed, and Spock comes willingly sitting beside McCoy. McCoy studies Spock’s face for a moment trying to get some hint of what Spock might want. McCoy himself is tired, upset and drained from the experience of the day, and what he really wants is to touch and be touched by Spock, to have him near, and for them not to fight for once.

“Leonard.” Spock is using his gentle voice the one that sounds exactly like every other tone Spock uses except that McCoy can tell the difference. The hand that cups his face, lightly touching his cheek, is gentle too. Spock kisses him, first on the lips, hot against McCoy own, a little awkward because Spock’s never been good at this, and then Spock’s other hand reaches forward to take McCoy hand in his, fingers tracing down and cross McCoy palm, down around his hand up his fingers gentle, intimate. It doesn’t do much for McCoy, the hand thing, but he knows what it means to Spock and that Spock chooses him, that’s enough. Spock drops his hand from McCoy’s face, lets it rest against McCoy’s shoulder, gently pushes him to lie flat on the bed. Spock bends over him, kisses his neck, his shoulders. Spock’s long fingered hands rub up and down McCoy’s body, carting through the light brown hair on McCoy chest and stomach, stroking it, then gently tugging, the way Spock knows McCoy likes. McCoy groans softly, eyes shut, and Spock licks across first one and then the other of McCoy’s nipples. Spock finally sits back and strips first McCoy and then himself, of their uniform pants in quick efficient movements. McCoy holds out his hand again and Spock comes to lie over him on the bed, their bodies touching. McCoy sighs softly kissing the curve of Spock’s neck, tracing one of Spock’s ears with the tip of his finger before Spock turns his face and kisses McCoy on the lips. McCoy opens his mouth again enjoying letting Spock take the lead and Spock shifts his legs over McCoy’s, lining up their cocks, allowing them to rub together and McCoy groans into Spock’s mouth. He thrusts up against Spock and Spock’s hands go to McCoy’s hips his grip hard as he holds McCoy against the bed, rubbing against him. McCoy’s hands grip Spock’s back hard, fingers digging into tight muscle as he pulls Spock down so that their chests can rub together as Spock ruts against him.

Spock sits up almost suddenly drawing away from McCoy to reach across the bed. McCoy’s brows draw together for a moment and then Spock drops a bottle next to him. A moment later his long fingers wrap around McCoy’s cock, slick with lube and McCoy arches into the touch thrusting into Spock’s hand until Spock’s other hand presses against his hip stilling him.

“So.” McCoy licks his lips opening his eyes to watch Spock slowly stroke him. “I’m going to fuck you then?”  
 Spock raises one eyebrow at him. “Unless you would prefer I penetrated you?”  
McCoy thinks about that for moment before shaking his head. “No.”

Spock only nods and rises to his knees on the bed. One of his hands curls around his own cock briefly, then reaches further back, sliding first one and then two fingers into his own body, and McCoy watches him, breathing hard.Spock doesn’t make any noise, nor does his expression change but his eyes slide shut and McCoy reaches out to lay one hand against the other man’s thigh. Spock’s eyes open and he looks down at McCoy with an expression in his eyes that is the closes Spock comes to smiling. Spock’s hand moves way from his body, wraps around the base of McCoy’s cock and Spock is lowering himself down, so slowly, so graceful and control, and McCoy watches Spock’s eyes, watches the pull of muscles across his legs and belly as he lowers himself down onto McCoy. McCoy hisses slightly as Spock’s body takes him in, so hot, so very, very hot, he struggles to breathe and then Spock is sitting on his lap, looking down at him a slight green flush crawling up his throat, across the top of his chest. Spock’s hands stroke across McCoy chest, feather light touches, and so very gentle, stroking through the thick hair at the top of McCoy chest, then where it whorls and thins across his belly. Spock waits for them both to adjust, and McCoy sighs, his own hand coming up to stroke across the dark hair on Spock’s thighs, up across his belly. He pulls a little on the dark hair on Spock’s chest, just hard enough to make Spock hiss and start moving. Up, so very slowly and then thrusting down and McCoy groans, tries to thrust up with his hips, but the weight of Spock’s body holds him firmly to the bed, as Spock repeats the upward push and then dissent with agonizing slowness.

“Damn it Spock. Move.” McCoy collapses back on to the bed supporting himself on his elbows, head back and Spock starts moving faster, grinding down harder, and McCoy thrusts up and knows he’s not going to last long.

“Spock . . .” McCoy’s this close to desperate now Spock’s hand grips his shoulder tightly pulling until McCoy’s sitting up, Spock still in his lap, still thrusting. Spock kisses him hard, demanding, final, then kisses down his neck, bites at the soft skin of McCoy’s shoulder and McCoy cries out and comes. Spock lets him go and McCoy falls back to lie on the bed, breathing hard, and ragged. Spock’s fingers curl around his own cock, just hold there for a moment and McCoy reaches forward touches his fingers to the back of Spock’s hand, and Spock comes, eyes shut, head thrown back.

McCoy let’s his hand drop, eyes closed he lies still against the bed. After a minute he feels Spock move, climb off him, and go into the bathroom. After a few minutes Spock comes back and McCoy feels himself being cleaned off with a damp cloth. He really should open his eyes, but he was tired at the start of the evening and now he’s exhausted. After another few minutes the bed dips as Spock sits next to him.

“The events of the day were most taxing.” Spock offers gently and McCoy rolls over onto his side reaching out for the other man. Spock lies down next to him and McCoy manages to get one arm around Spock’s body drawing them close together, curling around Spock. He opens his eyes and gently strokes across Spock’s chest, feels the hair against his palm. He wants to tell Spock how scared his is of being mentally manipulated like he had been earlier that day, but he can’t find any words he thinks Spock would be able to understand. He carts his fingers through Spock’s chest hair again.

“I love you.”

Spock’s arms tighten around him. “Indeed Leonard.”

Spock doesn’t say it, he never does, but his breath is hot against McCoy’s ear, his voice gentle, is arms comfortingly tight around McCoy’s body. Spock chose to be here, McCoy reminds himself, chose him, always chooses him, and even if Spock doesn’t say it, it’s enough.

   


End file.
